“‘My son is a flower child’, my mother told my fellow middle schoolers to my complete and utter horror. She went on to explain to my upper middle-class friends how she and my dad used to send me off to pre-school wearing flower-patterned shirts, plaid bell bottoms and moccasins and a bead necklace. Great! thanks Mom… Why don’t you just light up a joint and dig out that Iron Butterfly album while you’re at it.” The full column is at indieWIRE.